


Free

by destielgivesmethefeels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Cheating, Cheating Dean Winchester, Comforting Dean Winchester, Depressed Castiel, Destiel Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt Castiel, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Rejection, Smut, Top Dean Winchester, comforting sex, destiel au, destiel fic, destiel smut, it's just angst tbh, it's my first time writing it, sorry about the sex thing, well not really smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 21:42:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10580049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielgivesmethefeels/pseuds/destielgivesmethefeels
Summary: He was flying.He was free.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, sorry about the long hiatus. School was really busy for me for couple of months. I'm back though. Well at least for now it is, because the next two or three months will be crazy again. But I'll try to give you guys something else before disappearing again.  
> Anyway, this is the darkest thing I've written in like ever. I started it when I was going through some stuff so please excuse the emo-ness of it all LOL. And if angst is not your cup of tea, well then I have some (well like one or two) fluffs that you can give a try.  
> Also, this is my first attempt ever at writing about sex. And I was trying to write about sex without ACTUALLY writing about sex. So I am so freaking sorry about it.  
> As always, if there's any mistakes or anywhere that needs improving, feel free to leave a comment. I'll try to fix it as soon as possible and I really want to improve my writing. And English is not my first language so I'm pretty sure there are some mistakes.  
> Kudos are absolute welcomed!!!!  
> Okay, enjoy now.  
> Love you guys <3 <3 <3

**Free.**

 

He knew this was wrong. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. The guilt of his action tugged incessantly at the back of his mind, crawling and tearing, crying for him to stop. But he couldn’t. He needed to do this. He needed to feel something.

 

“Dad…,” he muttered weakly, the word caught in his throat as unshed tears seared his red-rimmed eyes.

 

The overbearing silence was starting to crumble his composed barricade. Brick by brick, his façade came down, allowing emotions to trickle through. It suffocated him with an invisible chokehold, sharp fingers coiled tightly around his neck in a death grip, ready to give the final snap to finish off the helpless prey that is Castiel himself.

 

His father’s ever-present warm, yet worn out smile from his years of hardship struggling to provide for Cas and his siblings as a single parent, was nowhere in sight. He was quiet. But the calm rage swirling in an eviscerating typhoon in his ocean blue eyes, identical to Castiel’s own, was abundantly deafening.

 

“Dad, please…” Cas pleaded. For what, he didn’t know. Maybe for his dad to hold him like he used to when he was a kid. For him to ruffle his dark coils of hair, call him his little angel like he would whenever he walked into the kitchen bed-headed and sleep-glazed. To tell him that everything was going to be fine, that he would always love him just as he always had.

 

But wishful thoughts were all that they remained.

 

“Leave.”

 

One word and it was a low blow, leaving him gasping desperately for air. One word, short, and it was a rusted sword, gracelessly piercing through his heart. One word, soft, and it was a devastating landslide, crushing him effortlessly.

 

One word, and it reverberated in his ears incessantly, growing exponentially boisterous, drawing out like the haunting echoes of the church bell in a dreary funeral, spreading through moldy field of the pitifully neglected cemetery. Its earsplitting shrills woke in Cas’ head the voices that he had struggled to keep in chains, free once again to roam.

 

_“You idiot! Of course, he doesn’t love you anymore. No one does!”_

_“You deserve this. You are a disgrace.”_

_“Nobody cares about you.”_

_“Nobody-”_

_“Stupid-”_

_“Worthless-”_

_“Disgusting-”_

_“Faggot.”_

__They raced around the tracks of his mind, fighting to be heard, lapsing over to create a demonic symphony. They coalesced to become a voracious hound dog of the devil. It growled menacingly, foul teeth bare, blood-stained claws waiting impatiently to cut through bleeding flesh.

 

The animal gutted him alive, chewing at his inside. It devoured him insatiably, sucking out the minuscule vestige of life left in him, drowning him in the stench of his own blood. He was a hollow carcass, void of feelings, alive but dead.

 

“Please…” Cas whimpered weakly, the air having evaded his lung.

 

He begged to no one and for nothing. Just a last give of breath of a man barely living, and quickly withering. So when comforting warmth wrapped itself around him, he rushed in a take of surprise into his lungs.

 

“I’m here, angel. I’ve got you.” A warm voice spoke.

 

The gentle tone jolted his eyes open. Bright blue eyes smeared with bitter tears peered through the pale moonlight that had snuck through the crack of the shutter into the dark room. A silhouette became clear in his bleary vision.

 

There he was, hovering above him. A pair of emerald with the luminescence of the Orion on the night sky, green eyes were gazing at him so dearly that he dared not look at them. On his otherwise unblemished complexion, hundreds of freckles gathered to form their own constellations, their inordinacy rivaling the intricacy of those wielded by God. Following their celestial map, ravished in the feeling of hot winds on his cheeks, Cas wandered along the bridge of his nose, ravished, only to stumble upon the fabled treasure. His lips. Oh, his lips. They are sinfully delicious, inviting and seductive, flaunting a shade of red that the devil himself could not help but be drawn in by the enticing temptation.

 

Leaning up, Cas ventured a try of the soft lips. They press against his chapped and trembling ones in sharp contrast. Feathers against broken glass. Warm sunrays on a beautiful summer day against the freezing gusts on a stormy night in December. The kiss shot lightning tingles through his senses, shocking every nerve, coursing through the fibers of his being. It was a much-needed downpour on a thoroughly arid desert, and at last his soul was rejuvenated, if only just for a scurried moment.

 

“I’ll make you feel good, my angel,” the melodic voice spoke yet again, filling his mind with hot honey. It burned but was sweet enough for him to forget the sting.

 

The pleasant lips went on to grace the pulsating skin of his neck where droplets of salty sweat adorned, his fluttering chest scrambles to cater for the needs of his wild heart. They left soft kisses on his pale thighs, causing them tremble at the anticipation of physical contact. A tongue trailed towards between his legs and encased him humid fervent warmth.

 

Rough hands ran down his waist and cupped the curve of his buttocks. They opened the way for the hot tongue to further explore his hidden flushed skin. Cas let out a choked gasp as it began to toy with his tight ring, lapping and flicking teasingly, bathing his secret flesh in a wet warmth. Finally, it plunged in with a palpable eagerness, moving in and out in a rhythmic fashion, shallowly at first, then each teasing inch deeper at a time.

 

The overwhelming sensation was enough to make him explode. It had him writhing, messing up his dark hair. He threw out a hand to grasp at the disheveled sheet beneath him so as to brace against the incessant onslaughts of pleasure. Soft moans and small mewls that Cas reserved exclusively for times like this unabashedly slipped through his lips. Self-control was not something he cared for at the moment.

 

Crawling towards him slowly in a manner that resembled a stalking predator, the comforting man captured Cas’ lips, more forcefully this time in an open-mouthed kiss. He bit down ever so lightly, sending enraptured tings of pain to his brain.

 

As lips and tongues swirled in a delicate waltz, rough fingertips traced the faint outline of his flat stomach, dragged across where his arousal was apparent and returned to between his inner thighs. Cas could feel the most minuscule of resistance when his body finally decided to give up the last sliver of stubborn and gave way to the welcomed intruding force. One, two, and then three fingers worked magic on him and _in_ him. They moved in a synchronous choreography, in and out, twisting and scissoring, massaging Cas in unholy ways that nobody could, eliciting lewd sounds from his swollen lips.

 

Cas could not help but let out a surprised gasp when those pleasurable fingers retreated suddenly to grasp firmly at his waists, leaving him exposed and sensitive the cold air. Soon enough, he was lifted off the bed, legs wrapped around a sturdy torso, fingers clinging onto the skin on the man’s back. In a swift movement, a tidal wave of ecstasy flooded him as well-nigh unbearable heat filled his emptiness.

 

Before he could recover from the sudden surge in satisfaction, the beautiful man started to move, the pace getting ever so quicker, bordering on brutal. But in his delirious state, the bliss far outweighed whatever discomfort he might feel. And in those moments, he allowed hushed pleads to once again slip from his tongue, though muffled by the hot flesh of his lover’s neck.

 

“Please… please…”

 

“It’s gonna be alright, angel. I’m here,” went the response in shallow huffs.

 

Just before the falsehood of those sweet words struck understanding in Cas’ hazed mind, ecstasy was found, as the man holding him up in a surely bruising grip precisely angled himself inside the warmth of Cas’ body. Repeated waves of immeasurable euphoria overwhelmed his senses, granting a yearned escape, albeit brief.

 

“Oh god… I’m going to… Dean!” Cas shouted hoarsely, as his body reached climax, nails digging into Dean’s back, leaving behind canals, which were already seeping dark beads of blood.

 

A soft “Angel…” was whispered and followed by a deep groan. When Dean finally found his own release and temporarily fulfilled Cas’ emptiness, he bit down of the tender skin of his neck with enough force that Cas could already feel a bruise forming.

 

Collapsing down on Cas, wary of his smaller and now static frame, Dean placed a gentle kiss on Cas’ reddened lips. Unlike those before, this kiss was not rushed, not heated, not biting. It was a simple press of skin against skin, flesh against flesh. Yet, it managed to jostle Cas’ core. He discovered in that chaste contact a faint denotation of something he had all but forgotten.

 

Care.

 

But he dared not believe so. Instead, he pulled away quickly, before false hopes got the chance to plague his ailed soul. It left him faced with Dean’s puzzled expression. His green eyes seemingly glowed in Cas’ somber bedroom, in the hot air with the slightest evidence of sensuality still lingering. His usually audacious brows, which flaunted a shade of brown that matched casually-styled hair, knitted together in obvious confusion. His agape mouth twitched as if to form an unspoken word.

 

But it was vocalized. Dean lifted himself off Cas, eyes reluctant to leave Cas’ sapphire blue. Grabbing his clothes from the cold floor, he didn’t make a move to get off the bed but sat at the edge, dipping the mattress with his weight, back turned against Cas.

 

“Cas, I…” Risking a glance, Dean vied to say but the words refused to give up the battle.

 

“I gotta go… It’s getting late. Lisa is probably waitin-” Dean hastily cut himself off. His words tripped over his tongue.

 

“Are you gonna be alright?” His tone was analogue to guilt.

 

“It’s okay, Dean. You should go home. I’m going to be fine.” Cas forced out each word, sporting the perfect assuring smile that he had rehearsed times over.

 

Finally pulling on his neglected clothes, Dean kept his back to Cas, unable to look at Cas. He took stiff steps towards the ajar door, halted in his movement as though held back by an unseen force; before he went on to pull it open.

 

“Dean!” Cas burst out suddenly, his own word startled him

 

_“Stay! Please stay with me. Just for tonight. Please, I’m not fine. I’m broken. I need you. Please! Stay!”_

_“I love you.”_

  

“Goodnight,” Cas said, finally gaining control over himself, the same tiring smile still plastered on his lips.

 

“Goodnight, Cas.” Dean smiled rigidly, glancing at Cas a final time, and closed the door behind him as he left.

 

Now, alone once again, in the darkness of his bedroom, Cas could feel the familiar gnawing at his soul.

 

Lisa Braeden, Cas’ friend and Dean’s fiancé. Sometimes, Cas wished he hadn’t invited Lisa to his birthday party all those years ago. Or that he had never met her. Or he had never even knew Dean. But how could he blame her. She was beautiful and smart, the very definition of a perfect woman. Dean was bound to fall for her one way or another.

 

He wanted to hate her. She stole his childhood friend, the love of his life for as long as he knew what love was. But he couldn’t bring himself to do so because she was the kindest soul Cas had ever met in his life. She was the first person to talk to him on the first day of college. She kept him company whenever he missed home. She took care of him when he was sick and there was no one there for him. She even went as far as to call his dad to ask for the beef stew recipe that he loved.

 

And yet here he was, hurting Lisa in ways she could have never imagined without her even knowing. The first time it happened, he blamed it on the fact that both he and Dean were both drunk out of their minds from Sam’s graduation party. The second time it happened, it was because Dean was hurting. He and Lisa had just had a terrible fight, and she threatened to break up with him. Cas was simply trying to comfort his best friend, although he may have got carried away. The third time it happened, Cas couldn’t think of any excuse, but that didn’t stop him. Nor did it stop him on following occasions. Maybe, Cas just wanted to feel a little bit of Dean’s love. After all, something was better than nothing.

 

Lying on his bed, his body ached all over, sticky and wet with the last remnant of Dean’s presence running cold on his thigh. He reached up to feel the bruised flesh at his neck, feeling every distinct shot of pain as he slightly pressed against it. He ran his fingers down his stone cold skin. Each touch sent off an unendurable rash of shame. It quickly dominated his body, turning him numb, slowly suffocating him.    

 

Having lied there for what felt like eternity, Cas sat up, wincing as his lower back protested. He trudged mindlessly to the bathroom, each drag of his foot felt like lead, and stepped into the shower. He stood under the hot stream of water, letting it burned his skin just enough to make him feel something other than abhorrence for himself. Even when it had gone cold, he didn’t step out in the hope that the running water could somehow wash him away.

 

Finally turning off the shower, he stood before the wet mirror, his tired eyes staring at his reflection. His eyes seemed like it belonged to a dead person, lacking the brilliance that they once had despite whatever they saw. He looked much paler than when he was a kid, his complexion now matched the ceramic tiles of his bathroom, unlike the tanned boy who loved adventures into the woods on the town’s outskirts. His arms was covered in scars, each of them were etched on in the nights that he could not find another escape. However, recently, they started to appear more frequently, the newest ones have yet to fully heal.

 

Out of the corner of his eyes, Cas saw the glaring blade of the razor, shining in the bathroom light. He reached for it, held it up to admired its dangerous beauty in a state of oblivion. But he didn’t run it across his wrists like he did earlier that night, or the night before. Putting the blade down on the sink, he walked out, not bothering to put on his clothes. Cas senselessly continued his unfounded routed out of his apartment and up the empty staircase.

 

He did not stop his inattentive trek until he was standing on the edge of the roof. Up here, he could feel the chilling gusts of an October night blowing on his skin, running through his damp hair, heralding an early winter. The cold had him shivering, but Cas didn’t want to go back to his stuffy bedroom. Looking up at the night sky, he wondered how many stars were out there. And if the multiverse theory was true. And if it was, what were the other versions of him doing? Were they sleeping? Were they looking up at the sky like him?

 

Were they happy?

 

He wanted to know. And when he saw a comet cut through the canvas of the dark sky, he knew exactly how. Taking a step forward, Cas still had his eyes to the night sky, admiring at the phenomenal comet, staring at the Cas that was staring back at him, and counting the stars that he could see. In that moment, the blue in his eyes was once again what it used to be, bright and vibrant like the ocean on a beautiful sunny Sunday.

 

The wind rushed around his body incrementally faster now. It whistled in his ears an odd tune that he found strangely funny. For the first time in years, Cas was showing off a genuine smile. If only his father and Dean were here so that he could show them he was happy again. He bet they would smile with him. Dad would ruffle his head like he would whenever he was proud of him. And Dean would envelope him a tight hug, picking him up and swirled him around in a way that guaranteed to have Cas giggling at the end.

 

If only.

 

He kept on soaring through the air.

 

He was flying.

 

He was free.

 

 

 


End file.
